


Son of a Preacher

by Pfain Ryder (Cat_Moon)



Series: The Threshold Universe [2]
Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat_Moon/pseuds/Pfain%20Ryder
Summary: It's 1957 and Sam has leaped into Shamrock, Texas.  While navigating small town life during a heatwave, he tries to figure out why he's there.  Is it to help one of the youths escape to the big city?  Or maybe it has something to do with the town "crazy."





	Son of a Preacher

**Author's Note:**

> 2nd in the "Threshold Universe." Originally published in the fanzine Quantum Fire.  
> So, it seems there was no Samuel Beckett/Original female character(s) category. Wow. Well, I'm an equal opportunity kinda writer, so it will be getting some use in my stories (although the focus is always on my OTP Sam/Al).

_The only one who could ever reach me_

_Was the sweet talkin' son of a preacher man_

_The only boy who could ever teach me_

_Was the son of a preacher man..._

(Son of a Preacher, by John Hurley and Ronnie Wilkins)

 

 

July 17, 1957:

 

The first thing I noticed about the place was nothing. There was nothing to notice. At a glance it looked like a ghost town, abandoned and empty. Already a feeling of total lethargic boredom settled over me like a layer of dust. I didn't know whether it was the residue from the person I leaping into, or an effect of the surroundings.

A cigarette hung from my mouth. I tossed it to the ground, taking a better look around. A battered pick-up truck roared past, sending a cloud of dirt billowing up. The air hung heavy, so dry I felt it might burst into flames any second.

Two companions stood with me, smoking and chatting idly. One was a very pretty girl. She wore tight blue jeans and a low cut blouse. Her long dark hair was tied back in a pony-tail. The other, a guy, was dressed like me in a pair of faded jeans and T-shirt. Teenagers, from their looks.

We were standing on the sidewalk next to an ancient movie theater. The marquee announced Giant was playing. I tried to remember what year it came out...mid fifties? Still no guarantee of the year I was in, this place didn't look like it was up on the latest flicks.

"Mark my words, Jerry, I'm gonna marry Rock Hudson one day, you just see!" the girl was telling our other companion with teenage certainty. "Soon as I get out of this hole."

Jerry snorted in amusement. "Don't hold your breath, Janey Lou."

She hit me in the arm to get my attention. "Tell him, Beau!"

Marry Rock Hudson. A smile curled my lips as I rubbed my arm. Then I remembered his fate and the smile faded. Janey Lou was still waiting for me to say something. "It's wonderful to have dreams. But maybe you should find a more...reasonable one." The sophistication of the world outside was no more than an alien place to the simple people in a town like this. One they were often times better off without.

"Last week it was James Dean you had a crush on," Jerry said, grinning.

She sure knew how to pick them. I recalled rumors that Dean had a crush on Hudson, during the filming of the movie. I couldn't help but wonder what she'd think of her idols if she knew the truth. Not to mention the fact that the man standing next to them was bisexual, something even less understood--by both sides. I revised my former opinion. Maybe ignorance didn't foster bliss, only intolerance.

"Anything to get me out of this place," Janey spat, emphasis on 'place' making it sound like she said something obscene.

 _Am I here to get them out? Keep them in?_ I was getting ahead of myself, already anxious to be gone.

"Look, Beau," Janey piped up suddenly, gaze centering on something ahead of us. "It's your _friend_." They both laughed.

I followed their attention. A girl was hurrying along the sidewalk on the other side of the street, head down, slumped over as if hiding from the world.

"Well, lookie, lookie," Jerry called. "If it isn't Alice Malice!" She ignored us, if anything moved faster, and he made kissing sounds toward her.

Janey echoed him, laughing. "Alice, honey, where's your imaginary little playmate today? Aw, come on over here, Beau wants to ask you out!"

Speaking of intolerance...

"Stop it!" I yelled to them, having had enough.

"Sorry, Beau," Jerry said, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "But you know she has a crush on you."

"What makes you think that?" I asked.

"You're the only one she looks right in the eye," Janey explained.

I watched Alice disappear around the corner. It disturbed me to see the others taunting her like that. "Maybe that's because I'm the only one who treats her like a human being," I answered hotly.

"No wonder you failed biology class," Jerry said, laughing.

I opened my mouth for a retort, clamped it shut again. I counted to ten, slowly, taking deep breaths. I didn't even know why I was there yet, it wouldn't help to make enemies already.

"Why don't you find something better to do?" I finally asked. They both gave me inquisitive looks. "Like..." I gestured around me. "Like--watching the tumble weeds."

"I gotta go anyway," Janey told us. "It's almost supper-time and if I don't get home to help Ma, she'll whip my ass." She leaned over and gave me a very generous kiss.

Momentarily stunned, I kissed back. It was starting to look like she was Beau's girlfriend. Somehow, from her talk about the movie stars, I'd thought we were all just friends.

"See you later, Beau," she crooned suggestively. And when she didn't bother kissing Jerry, I was pretty certain I was right.

"Hold up, I'll walk with you," he said. "I gotta get back to my chores. See ya, Beau."

"You'd best be gettin' home soon too, sugar," she informed me. "You know how Preacher gets when you're not home on time for supper."

 _Preacher_? "Uh--yeah, okay," I answered, watching them walk away.

I wasn't planning on doing anything until Al arrived. For one thing, I had no idea where I lived. I glanced at the gloomy scene around me, hoping it was a quick leap. I felt like my spirit was hanging as heavy as the belly of the old hound dog who lay outside the hardware store.

Spying a bar on the corner lifted my spirits. I headed over, already tasting the cold beer. My mouth felt like I'd been eating sandpaper.

It was somewhat cooler inside, fans in the ceiling providing some air circulation. There were only a few patrons inside this time of day, one at the end of the bar putting away double shots, two more playing pool in the corner. What else did they have to do, really-- besides work their asses off. It was a hard life, with too little distractions. Farm life in Indiana was no picnic, but this was down right bleak, with a capitol B. The diary farm I was so glad to be away from was starting to look awfully good, compared to this.

I'd plopped on a bar stool, exchanged a pleasant hello with the bartender, ordered, and was taking out my wallet to pay when I realized I'd forgotten to check two very important things in my haste. One, money. Luckily, I had a few bucks on me. Two, age. My I.D. said I was seventeen, but this was one of those little towns where everyone knew everybody else and they weren't real strict on that sort of thing. I knew that from experience too--I'd gotten my taste for beer way before I'd gone off to college.

If I was indeed a preacher's son, how did it look for me to be in a saloon drinking beer? No one gave me any odd looks, so I guessed it wasn't too unusual. I sipped at the frosty mug, to make it last. I wasn't going to push my luck with more than one, nor was I going to do anything else at all until my hologram showed up with information. I'd already made too many near mistakes. Maybe the heat was getting to me.

I tried to drink slow, but thirsty as I was, it wasn't long before I was staring at an empty glass. After a few moments of contemplating the risk of buying another and willing the glass to replenish itself, I rose with a sigh. The inevitable was at hand.

I wandered outside again. The heat hit me like a brick wall as I stepped out of the doorway, and I almost staggered back from the force of it. Spying a tree with some shade, I headed over there.

I was sitting under the tree, chewing on a piece of hay I'd picked up, when Al arrived.

He took in my appearance, face showing amusement. "Well howdy, John-Boy. How ya'll doin'?"

I wiped the sweat from my face with the T-shirt I'd discarded earlier. "Keep one thing in mind, Al. The heat makes a person mean. But I'll kiss you if you can tell me why I'm here and how to leap out within the next five minutes."

"Sounds like a tempting offer," he quipped. "But no can do. Ziggy's just a computer, not a magician." He puffed on his cigar and looked at the handlink. "It's July 17, 1957. You're name is Beau Handcock, and you're in Shamrock, Texas."

"Shamrocks are supposed to be good luck."

"Don't count on it in this case," he told me. "That's for four-leaf, not one-horse."

"Great. Now can you tell me something I don't already know?"

"What do you need us for, anyway--you always know how to handle a leap without me to tell you."

It was said lightly, but I knew he was probably still ticked off at me about the last leap. I'd decided to take LSD, with hopes of finding the answer to getting home that was locked up in my unconscious mind. Al hadn't been pleased.

"I'm sorry," I conceded. "But it was worth it," I said with a small smile. I didn't elaborate, figured he'd get the idea. The only good thing that came out of the experience was getting a hug from Al.

He gave me an exasperated look and shook his head. "Your father is the local minister here. Everyone, including you, just calls him Preacher. You're mother died in childbirth."

"So I am the son of a preacher. Can you help me find my house? I think I'm late for dinner."

"Sure. Poor kid, thinks God took him because of the naughty things he does with Janey Lou." Al winked at me. "You should hear..."

"He thinks he's dead?" I asked, as much to get Al off his sleazy topic as anything else.

"Some of them do react that way. He'll be okay." Al chuckled. "'Course you should've seen his face when Verbena walked in. She was the first person he saw. Gave him quite a start to realize God was not only black, but a woman."

I grinned. "It'll do him good. No idea at all why I'm here?" I couldn't help asking.

He shook his head. "We're still running names and scenarios."

"Maybe I'm supposed to get Beau out of here, or Jerry, or Janey, or Alice. Don't forget to check on a girl named Alice."

"Or you could be here for something entirely different. Don't start jumping to conclusions."

"There isn't much else to do around here," I told him.

"Okay, let's get you home to supper. You're always grouchy when you're hungry."

I decided not to play into his hands and kept my mouth shut on nay retorts. Besides, I was too hot to argue.

Preacher lived in town, next to the church, so it didn't take long to get home. Al left me at the door, with a parting 'have fun with Janey Lou' and suggestive wink.

 

* * *

 

I got a minor scolding about being late from our housekeeper, a Mexican woman named Cissy. I then won her favor and forgiveness by setting the table. While at my task, I found my thoughts drifting to Alice. I wondered what had happened to her, why they treated her as they did. There were limits in how far I would go to act like the person I was supposed to be. Leaps like this really tested my patience.

Preacher emerged from his den at Cissy's call, and with a nod to me, sat down at the head of the table. He was in his forties, a youthful looking, wiry man with red hair and intelligent blue eyes. He wasn't what I'd expected from a minister, then again, maybe one called 'Preach'--even by his housekeeper.

Without warning, his booming voice cut the silence. "'Everything happens with inexorable logic and by necessity'," he quoted. "So, how is it you were late for supper?"

About to sit, I froze halfway, staring. "Huh?" My brain finally got the message, but it didn't sound like a Bible quote. It reminded me of--philosophy. "I uh, the heat made me tired. I fell asleep under a tree."

"As good as any," he accepted with a smile. "Just don't let it happen again."

"Yes, sir." My meek reply earned me an odd look, so I decided to keep my mouth shut until I figured out the game plan.

Dinner was tasteless, with no reflection on the cook. It was too hot to eat, and everything still tasted like dust to me. I forced it down anyway, assuring Cissy everything was delicious. It wasn't a total lie--the wine I was invited to share with my father hit the spot. Obviously I didn't have to worry about setting a certain image as the son of a preacher. I should have had that second beer.

During casual dinner table talk, I was able to learn some of what was expected of me. I was in charge of all the 'male' chores around the house. Taking out the garbage, mowing the lawn, whatever needed to be done. God took up all Preacher's time. And I was right about the philosophy. He quoted the greats, had a quote for everything. I got the impression Beau was quite learned in it too, being exposed that way. Unfortunately, it was likely I knew less than Beau in that area. Philosophy had been a required course of mine, but in my swiss cheesing I lost a lot of it. I found myself wishing Al were there, he was the literary expert.

Still, I found myself joining in the conversation. Preacher's enthusiasm was contagious, and the discussion was interesting. He probably would have been quite happy sitting on a rock somewhere, holding court.

I was amazed and intrigued. Ancient Greek philosophy and Christian religion didn't exactly go hand-in-hand. Especially with all that homo- Eros rampant.

I was drawn deeper into the conversation. It had been a long time since I'd had the treat of a good intellectual discussion. After my second glass of wine, I decided to start asking questions, hoping I wouldn't show my ignorance of something Beau knew.

I phrased my question carefully. "I still can't believe that a student of the Bible would encourage philosophy."

"Not all philosophy, just certain ideas. You still don't understand the basic elements involved, that's okay, you're young. The seeds of our truth are there."

I'd had one too many small town attitude today. "What about their homosexuality," I asked right out.

Preach smiled slightly. "See what I mean? Child, Plato did not encourage homosexuality."

 _Whatever you say._ I kept the grin off my face. "Are you saying there wasn't any of that going on in ancient Greece?"

He shook his head. "Of course, but they eventually realized the error of their ways. Remember what the word Platonic means. Plato preached rising above the sins of the flesh."

"As an ideal, yeah. And that went for love of women as well as men."

"The love of women is needed for procreation."

"The love of men is needed for birth control." The minute it was out, I could have bit my tongue. I was so interested in the conversation, I wasn't watching what I was saying.

A familiar laugh caught my attention, and I saw Al out of the corner of my eye.

"That's what abstinence is all about," Preach was saying. "Which is something no doubt, you and Janey don't know anything about."

Behind him, Al snickered.

"Which has nothing to do with Greek philosophy," I retorted, anxious to get away from that touchy subject. "They thought even less of women than we do."

Preach was going on with some Bible quotes now, but I didn't pay attention, more interested in what Al was saying. I had a vested interest, under the circumstances. I had to decided whether or not to tell him his best friend was bisexual.

"I always wondered why those broads put up with that," Al said.

I gave him a glare. He was one to talk about treatment of women. Something Preach said reclaimed my attention and I spoke up again. "Platonic is defined as a relationship in which sexual desire is sublimated or suppressed. That implies with women as well."

"Isn't that what I said?" Preach asked. "Sins of the flesh."

"Okay. So then what you're saying is all sex is wrong unless it's for procreating." By the look on his face, I'd say old Preach had a girlfriend somewhere. "And," I delivered the coupe, "homosexuality is fine--as is heterosexuality--as long as you don't engage in sexual relations."

"A difference which is no difference..." Al muttered to himself.

I knew by his earlier statements, Preach wasn't that strict a minister. I'd backed him into a corner. "There is some interpretation, translation problems..." he began haltingly.

"You mean personal opinion," I told him. "Everyone has a different one. And a difference which is no different..." I quoted Al.

"For those kinds of answers, we have to go back to the Scriptures," Preach began. "I never said Philosophy was the answer. The Bible has that." He stared at me a moment. "If I didn't know for a fact you're with Janey most every night of the week...I'd suspect you might be trying to tell me something."

I smiled at him. "Don't worry, Preach, I'm not trying to tell you anything." With just a slight emphasis on 'you'.

After another probing look, he started in with the Bible quotes again and I knew I'd lost him. "Sometimes the devil can mislead even the most sincere."

"I don't believe in the devil," I blurted out. I was really going to have to watch the booze, it was loosening my tongue to an impractical degree.

Preach pointed his finger at me. "Do you really think he cares whether you believe in him or not? He doesn't need your belief to do his deeds."

"He's got you there, Sam," Al told me.

I shook my head in exasperation. "Did you ever read any philosophy?" I asked Al under my breath, while Preach went on.

Al smiled slightly. "It wasn't sexless love they were ranting about, they just got off on frustration."

I had to laugh. Leave it to Al to offer his own, unique views on any subject.

"Trust me on that," Al continued. "It's like with women. When you're chasing her and dying to get her between the sheets--there's a high in that. The pain of yearning is a powerful thing. Once the main event has come to pass, the passion eventually fades."

I gave him a look that said I didn't agree.

"You're a romantic, Sam. Besides, I'm the expert, not you. Once it's gone--if you ever get that far, I haven't--you're left with companionship. Which isn't a bad thing, really. If you get that far..."

It sounded like it applied to both sexes as well and I said so. "Sounds like back to square one."

Preach thought I was talking to him and launched into another sermon for me to ignore.

"That's life for you," Al answered. "Just when you think you've gotten somewhere, you find out you're only back at the beginning again."

 

* * *

 

After dinner, Preacher informed me he was going visiting with one of his parishioners in need of solace, told me not to stay out with Janey too late, and left. Al had vanished again soon after the conversation at dinner got boring. I finished up the chores and went to dress for my date.

Looking into Beau's room confirmed my suspicion that he had much more than a small town mind. I wondered if Janey saw him as a possible way out of town. His room was a library of books. His wardrobe too was decent, when he wasn't in the clothing of the day--jeans and T-shirt--he dressed well. Possibly he wanted to be one of the gang. On the other hand, no way was I gonna dress up in those fancy clothes in weather like this, either. I only wished I had a pair of shorts. I threw on a clean pair of jeans and cotton shirt.

Maybe, I was there to get Beau out. He certainly didn't seem to belong in a place like Shamrock. Then, I wouldn't wish a place like this on my worst enemies.

Well, maybe I could think of a few...

 

* * *

 

The mattress I lay on was lumpy and stained with ancient blotches I had no wish to try and identify. The hot July air hung heavy around me like a blanket, stifling, sucking the air out of my lungs to replace it with dust.

The oppressive heat gave me an urge to fight against the restraints, lash out desperately. Instead, I merely shifted restlessly, undoing the only remaining closed button on my shirt. My jeans were sticking to my overheated flesh uncomfortably. Sweat stains darkened the blue denim in spots, with no underwear to absorb excess moisture. I squirmed, trying to get some space between the tight pants and my skin.

Janey Lou's eyes followed my movements with an odd blend of interest and boredom. The smoke from her cigarette rose slowly towards the ceiling. I longed to tell her to put it out, there was little enough oxygen as it was.

Patsy Cline was singing Crazy. I listened, wondering why it should make me feel so strange to hear the words. Easy to shrug off stray thoughts though, when thinking was like driving a car with an overheated engine.

I idly watched a fly trying to commit suicide--or mate with the naked light bulb, I wasn't sure which. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

She stubbed out the remains of her butt and rose, heading over for the ice box. I watched the rhythmic movement of the cheeks of white ass that peeked out from her obscenely short shorts. If I tilted my head just right, I could see a hint of curly black pubic hair trying to escape the steamy, moist hothouse.

She pulled out two cans of beer and started back to me. The snap of her cut-offs was open. She wore no underwear. My eyes traveled slowly up her torso, pausing to appreciate the way her tits jiggled with each step. They were perfectly shaped, an erotic work of art.

I shifted again.

She sat on the bed next to me, placing one of the cans against my sweaty chest. I shivered at the welcome coldness. Droplets of condensation ran down my chest toward my stomach. She reached over, tongue going out to catch a drop with the tip. I reached out to gather her hair back, letting the silky tresses slip through my fingers.

She smiled and handed me the can. I opened it, tilting my head back and drinking thirstily. While so occupied, I felt something wet run down my chest. I looked to see her pouring beer from her can onto me. The cold liquid was followed by a hot tongue, lapping noisily. Hot and cold. I felt a storm approaching from the south.

"It's too hot to do anything but fuck," she said, standing up.

"Assuming there was something else to do," I said.

"That's worth doing," Janey finished. She lifted her blouse over her head and off.

My eyes widened. I had a feeling she was gong to be worth going, all right.

The electricity from near heat-lightening hummed along my nerve endings, making me even more antsy. I shrugged out of my shirt and tossed it somewhere.

Her eyes met mine. There was a mischief in them, laced with heat and frustration and insanity.

I reached out with both hands, taking her waist and pulling her closer. It was only polite to return the favor. Tipping my can slightly, I let beer spill down her breast, over a nipple. She let out a little squeal. I caught a drop with my tongue as it fell, then closed my mouth over the tight bud, licking off the beer. My teeth closed over it, pulling gently. She whimpered.

I decided to experiment and see how many different sounds I could elicit from her. I released the breast and moved my hands to the front of her shorts to unzip them. I could feel the heat pouring off her, the tang of sex rising on a non-existent breeze.

With the storm comes the rain. I poured a generous amount of the beer down her pants.

A big gasping intake of breath escaped her. "That's cold," she exclaimed.

"Not for long," I promised.

I slid the shorts down the tanned, shapely legs and bent forward to begin.

Droplets of beer clung to her hair, ran down the inside of her thighs. I began with the left thigh, working my way up. I sucked on the sensitive flesh until the beer was gone and only my spit remained. I slipped to my knees to get at her better. She squirmed as I worked, breath catching in her throat when my tongue slipped into her opening. She was wet with excitement.

She put one of her legs up on the bed to facilitate my administrations. I slid further up into the waiting hole, fucking her with my tongue. My hands, needing something to do, moved behind to grab her butt. My middle finger slipped inside her ass as my other hand massaged one soft mound.

She pulled away abruptly, knocking me onto my butt. Her eyes were wild, glazed. She bent over, grabbing my zipper. I wished I'd taken them off earlier, hoping I wouldn't have to be cut out of them. She bent over me and opened my pants. My erection took advantage of the freedom.

I stood up and we both stepped out of our pants. She moved up against me, rubbing her body with mine. Her nipples rubbed against mine with inflaming friction. Her legs trapped my cock between them and she wiggled teasingly.

I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down onto the mattress. When I sat beside her, she poured some beer onto my cock with a wicked grin, giving new meaning to a beer with good head. I hissed in a breath, letting it out in a sigh as her tongue licked my shaft. Soon, she took all of me, sucking greedily.

Moaning, I thrust into her mouth.

One of her hands wrapped around the base of my cock, the other played with herself. After awhile, I longed to replace her hand, to bury myself deep inside that waiting body.

I grabbed her hips, pulling her up to show my intentions. But instead of coming to me, she moved away, reaching into a drawer by the bed. I was puzzled until I saw what she had in her hand. She tore open the package and took out a condom.

 _Oh_ , I thought foolishly. _I'm glad one of us is prepared._ _It's not like I was planning this when I left the house..._

Her hands slipped it over my erection, making a sensual caress out of the task. I watched her avidly, fascinated by how sexy she was making it.

Then she mounted me. She rode me with grunts of satisfaction. My fingers dug into her thighs as I bucked up like a bronco. Soon her panting increased and muscles clenched around my cock in a frenzy.

My own release followed. I came in a haze of hear and collapsed on the bed, still.

While catching my breath, I watched as she took the rubber in her hand, letting some semen drip down into her bottle of beer. She tipped it to her mouth and drank. She offered some to me.

I figured I'd found out what kids do in boring towns like Shamrock.

 

* * *

 

I slipped my pants on quietly, zipping them partially up. With one glance at the sleeping girl, I padded silently to the door.

Outside, to my pleasant surprise, I found the slightest cool breeze. I took a grateful breath, sinking down onto the stoop to enjoy it. Janey's mother was visiting her aunt, and wouldn't be back till morning. Her father had left the family when she was little. I wondered if 'aunt' was a euphemism for boyfriend. For a moment, I fancied her mother's boyfriend as my 'father'. I could get them to marry and leap out. But that would make Janey and Beau half sister and brother...I looked back at the door. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea after all.

As I listened to the nocturnal sounds, a wistfulness filled me. I always liked sitting outside at night in the summer, with someone I loved. It seemed I never got to enjoy quiet time like this these hectic days, when almost every one held a life and death decision over my head. Sex took away the ache temporarily, but...maybe it was better I didn't have time on my hands. Too much thinking just could drive me insane.

I tried to concentrate on the peace of the evening. Memories of romantic times spent wafted pleasantly in my mind. In the distance, I could make out faint lights shining warmly in windows. The half moon was glowing, a halo around it. The stars were twinkling brightly.

 _Megrez_?

I looked up again. Knowing where it would be. There it was, waiting for me like an old friend. I watched for a time, content.

It was a special star, for a special person. I wanted to tell Al, but how to put it into words without sounding...

Sounding what?

Thoughts were strange things when you let them run loose. For instance, thinking of Megrez abruptly reminded me that I had a wife at home. I knew it wasn't always so and I knew how she'd come to be there. Oddly, it wasn't much of a surprise. Like when you hear something and say, 'oh, I knew that.' I looked for the emotion I reasoned should be there, but I could find no love inside when I thought of Donna. There was only an emptiness where my feelings for her should be. Maybe it was like the swiss-cheesing, something to make things easier on me. I just didn't know.

The dreams of love I did have were faceless, obscure images I couldn't pin down or give a name. Or warm memories of sweet lovers past.

"Nice night," a quiet voice close beside me said. I looked up to se Al standing there, the tip of his cigar glowing faintly in the dark. "How's it going, Sammy?"

I smiled, wondering how long he'd been there. "Fine." The way he sneaked around, he could easily be around at any time without my knowing it. In fact, he could have been there when...

I thought about how I'd feel to know he'd seen Janey and I. Strangely, I couldn't say it would bother me. Actually, I felt a little rush of excitement.

I changed the subject. "Anything yet on why I'm here?"

"Not much. Originally, none of these kids leave town. Janey marries the barber's son and settles down, has five kids. Jerry continues to work on his father's farm, and Beau joins his father in the ministry. Any of them could use a ticket out."

"What about Alice?"

"I can't find anything on her at all, but I haven't given up, so don't even start. We're still working on likely's, sit tight."

"Easy for you to say," I complained.

"I'm sure Janey will help you keep away the boredom." He grinned and punched up the doorway on the handlink.

"Do you have to go back so soon?" I blurted before I knew

what I was doing.

Al closed the door again. I knew what he was thinking, I'd never asked that before. It wasn't like I didn't think it silently, every time I saw that silver rectangle of light. Maybe sometimes you should tell a person what you're thinking.

"Is it any cooler?" he asked in a carefully casual voice, watching me with those keen eyes of his. The ones that see into my soul.

"Yeah, there's a pretty nice breeze."

We were quiet awhile, just being together. I could always count on Al to know what I needed without having to be told. Which was good, because sometimes he was one up on me with that information.

"Do you ever sit outside at night?" I finally asked.

"Yeah, sometimes," he answered neutrally, waiting.

The outburst when it came was sudden, just as quickly burning out. "I feel like sitting outside in the summertime with someone I love," I complained fiercely. "I want to have a picnic, play horseshoes. I can't remember the last time I played horseshoes."

"Sam." The tone was gentle and reprimanding at once. Topics better dropped. Then he smiled slightly. "You never went on picnics. Your idea of a picnic was sandwiches in front of Ziggy."

"I've changed."

"I know," he agreed quietly. "I guess we all have. You're still an opinionated bastard though, aren't you?" he said with fondness, changing the subject--sort of.

It took me a moment to realize he was talking about my discussion with Preach. "I guess so."

"Interesting dinner table conversation to have with a Preacher."

"He had to coming," I said.

Al shook his head. "Anyway, since you're so interested in Plato all of a sudden, I have something with me you might enjoy hearing." He made himself comfortable on the floor of the Imaging Chamber. "It's from the Symposium."

I settled back to listen, as a book appeared in his hands.

He began reading. "...Those pregnant in body only, take themselves to women, beget children in the hope it will give them immortality. Then there are those pregnant in their souls--among such souls are all creative poets and artists deserving of the name inventor. And he who in youth has the seed of these implanted in his soul, when he comes to maturity, desires to beget and generate. He wanders about, seeking. When he finds a fair and noble soul, he embraces the two in one person. He brings forth that which he had conceived long before, and in company with him tends that which he brings forth;

"And they are married by a far nearer tie and have a closer friendship than those who beget mortal children, for the children who are their common offspring are fairer and more immortal."

I listened and watched the stars. The words were about...us. I'd brought my dream to him, and together, we created things no man had ever conceived of before.

"Who, when he thinks of Homer and Hesiod, would not rather have their children than ordinary human ones? And many others who have given to the world many noble works, and have been the parents of virtue of every kind. These are the lesser mysteries of love."

"That was beautiful..." I whispered when he was finished, ducking my head to hide the wetness in my eyes. "Almost like poetry."

"Sam, some people were born to live ordinary lives. Others, were meant for greater things. And the heroes dream of being ordinary, and the ordinary people wish they were heroes."

"With a noble soul at their side?" I asked quietly, locking gazes with Al.

"Always." He smiled at me.

It wasn't until after he left that I realized my mood had lifted.

 

* * *

 

Another day in Nowheresville, Texas. I woke up with the sheets stuck to my naked skin and a headache from the heat. I took a cold shower and dressed as lightly as I could, grabbing a shirt but not putting it on.

After a small breakfast, I started in on my chores. Since it was summer vacation, I had things to do before I was allowed to go and hang out with my friends. I didn't know which the lesser of two evils was.

I'd finished repairing the fence and pruning the bushes, and was watering the flowers when Al arrived.

Actually, what I was really doing was laying on the ground, with the hose aimed up in the air, pouring down on me in gloriously cold droplets. Preach wasn't home to complain about wasting water, but I'd probably get a lecture from Al...

Who stood watching me. Then, to my surprise, he grinned. "Life should be so tough," he remarked.

I aimed the hose at him playfully. He almost jumped. "Ah hah!" I exclaimed. "Almost had you."

"Never," he assured, straightening his jacket like a peacock smoothing his feathers.

"Next time," I assured him, returning the water to my skin. My shirt was still off, jeans soaked with water. I didn't care. Maybe it would keep me cooler longer, while they dried.

"Looks like fun."

"Have you found out what I'm here to do?" I asked.

"Well, we narrowed it down more. Ziggy's giving it a 70% you're here to get Beau out of Shamrock. We still can't find any information on Alice, but because of that, Ziggy is willing to say there's a 60% chance you're being here has something to do with her."

"You can't find anything on her at all?"

"Nada." He fell silent, watching me, and I watched him watching me.

"I enjoyed last night," I finally said.

"Me, too."

He was being especially warm towards me lately, I mused. Which, while it should have made it easier for me to tell my secret, I was more hesitant than ever to spoil things. Besides, I had a feeling he knew. We'd been saying a lot to each other, without saying.

Platonic love. Well, what else was it, since we were holograms to each other? The thing which amazed me was that Al had been the one to open my eyes about certain things. Yes, it went beyond the physical. The question which now plagued me was, would I want to keep up Plato's ideal if Al were really here with me? It was a concept I didn't even dare entertain. Kind of like wanting to have a picnic or play horseshoes.

"You know," Al began, "you could probably find out more about Alice from your end than we can. You can ask around, visit her--get everything fresh and from the source."

I guess I was gaping at him in stunned realization, because he shook his head tolerantly. "Finish your chores, John-Boy. Then go and investigate."

 

* * *

 

After chores were through, I found myself at the local watering hold, hanging out with Jerry. As we played shuffleboard and drank beer, I tried to figure out a way to question him about Alice while still playing the part of Beau. It was proving a challenge.

"I saw Alice in the grocery the other day," I finally improvised.

Jerry raised eyebrows at me. "You're drunker than you look, buddy, you know Alice don't go into no stores."

"She has to go into stores, I mean, how does she eat, right?"

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "She gets her food in the wild. Some people say eats it alive, too."

"Oh, come on," I drained my beer and ordered another. "She's just a human being, with problems."

"She's weird, I tell ya."

"Weird, how?" I pressed.

"Just weird, ask anybody. And if you don't know that after living your life in this town, you better lay off the beer for sure." His eyes took on a look I vaguely recognized as they abruptly left me.

I followed his gaze. He was riveted by a curvy blond in a low cut red blouse and indecent shorts.

"Hot damn, Colleen is here," he breathed. "I been trying to get her to go out with me for two years now. See ya later, Beau." With a wink and a slap on the back, he abandoned the board for another sort of game.

Colleen was friendly, and I'd lost that source of information for the night.

Frustrated, I wandered outside. Nights actually weren't so bad, and I was glad to be out of the smoky, noisy bar. Not having any particular place to go, I decided to have a look around town.

 

 

* * *

 

I walked down the street and was just turning a corner when I ran into Alice--or rather, she ran into me, literally.

"They're after me!" she cried in a terrified voice, glancing behind her.

"Who?" I asked, peering down the empty street.

"Uh, Sam..." I looked up at the appearance of Al. He was shaking his head and making circling motions with his finger. "That's why Ziggy couldn't find her. Sometime within the next year, she's involuntarily committed to a state psychiatric hospital, and spends the rest of her life there."

The information only left me with more questions, unfortunately, I didn't dare try asking Al in front of the already unstable girl.

I turned back to Alice. "Who's after you?" I repeated more forcefully, holding her by the shoulders.

She stared at me as if just realizing she'd gone to someone for help. Suddenly, she tried to bolt away. I held her tighter and she struggled harder.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise," I assured her. "I want to help. Tell me who's after you."

She looked behind her again, but didn't answer.

"I don't see anyone," I said.

"They were there!" She glanced over her other shoulder as if fearing someone would pop out of the bushes.

"C'mon," I said, taking her hand.

She protested for a minute, but soon I was leading her back the way she'd come. We walked along the empty street, checking in alleys and anywhere else someone might be hiding.

"See?" I told her. "There's nobody here."

I let go of her hand for a moment and she was running down the street. I started to go after her.

"Let her go," Al said.

I did as I was told.

"We've got a fix on her if you want to go after her later."

"What's going on, Al?"

"I gave you all we have on Alice. Ziggy still says you're here to get Beau out of Shamrock."

"I don't know about that, Al. How am I supposed to do that within this leap? He's got to finish school, right? Unless you're suggesting he'll be better off if he runs away, something's got to happen in the next few days, an opportunity or something. Right?"

Al shrugged. "Ziggy has no idea."

"I'm doing everything I can to feel around, hanging out with the kids, listening to gossip, can you think of anything else I should be doing?"

"I'd say bopping Janey Lou, but you're already doing that." I gave me an exasperated look, and he sighed. "I've been running scenario's left and right, Ziggy keeps nixing them. I'll go back and keep trying."

"Okay. I want to talk to Alice."

He nodded and punched some buttons on the link. "Follow me."

 

* * *

 

Alice was hiding out in a an old abandoned shack on the edge of town. The door was boarded up, I had to climb through a broken window. The place was filled with remains of food, signs of living. This was where she lived, I realized. Feeling sorry and sickened by what I saw, I approached further.

She was huddled in the corner on a tattered blanket, clutching a dirty, torn, stuffed teddy bear.

"Alice?" I said quietly. "Can I visit with you? Please?" I added when she didn't reply.

"Are you gonna hurt me too?" she asked in a dull tone.

"No, I promise." I came closer, crouching down. There was a candle lit beside her, almost burned down. In the light I could see her clothes were dirty and there was a bruise on her face. I was sure it hadn't been there when I saw her earlier. I cursed myself for not going right after her.

I touched her cheek with my hand and she flinched. "How did you get this?" I asked.

"They pushed me down."

"Why?" I asked, sitting beside her and hoping I didn't scare her off.

"Because they don't like me."

"Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions," she commented.

I chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I do. But I want to help you."

"Why?" she parroted me.

I smiled my most charming smile at her. "Because I think it's wrong for them to treat you the way they do." I brushed the hair away from her face soothingly. Her black hair was slightly curly, her eyes had a sparkle of intelligence in them. The candlelight brought out the brightness. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen and a half. You should know these things, everybody does."

"Yeah, well, I kind of lost some of my memory."

Her eyes widened. "Did you get hit on the head?"

"Something like that." I gave her teddy a friendly pat on the head.

"His name is Megraw," she told me. "I suppose you think it's childish for an eighteen year old to be sleeping with a stuffed animal and talking to an imaginary playmate."

"No." I looked around me. "If I lived here, I'd be sleeping with a teddy bear too."

She looked at me skeptically.

"And I have an imaginary playmate, too. His name is Al. Really." I said to her look of doubt. "He's always there when I need him, even if no one else can see him. Even when he's off playing with someone else, he's still with me. In here," I pointed to my heart. "It would get awful lonely without him. Know what I mean?"

She nodded. "Mine's name is Pan."

"There's an ancient God named Pan."

"Running through the woods, eternally young."

I stared in amazement. Come to think of it, that could describe Al as well. "Why do you pretend to be dumber than you are?" I finally got right to the point.

"What difference does it make? I'm still crazy, I have an imaginary friend."

"Most creative people do, did you know that?" I asked. She shook her head. "They're just afraid to admit it. Although, I don't reckon anyone in this town has one."

She laughed. "That's for sure." After watching me for a moment, she handed me a piece of paper. "I just finished this," she said shyly.

It was a long, winding poem, about a small, dirty town. It was filled with powerful imagery and keen insight, to tell the story of beauty rising from ashes.

"You know what you have here?" I asked her enthusiastically.

"I know it's not very good..." she began with self-reproach.

"That's not what I meant--it's great. This is almost like philosophy, a unique way of looking at things. They say we learn from our mistakes, but we learn from our pain, too. Everything that happened to you might have made you the special person you are."

She shrugged. "What difference does it make?" she said listlessly.

"Will you tell me what happened to you?" I asked gently.

She stared into the candle flame, and began speaking. "When I was young, my mother got a real bad fever and died. My father...he...got funny in the head. He started thinking I was my mother."

I winced. The picture was all too clear.

"Once I told someone what he was doing, but he claimed I'd been crazy ever since my ma went. He started making up stuff that wasn't true, to make me look even crazier, so nobody would listen to me. It started getting worse, he'd hurt me. Nobody in school would have anything to do with me, and my grades got real bad. Finally one night I was waiting for him with a butcher knife. When he came into my room, I cut it off."

I wasn't sorry to hear the bastard got what he deserved...but I casually put a protective hand close to my crotch, just in case.

"He could have told everybody what I did, they woulda locked me up. But I guess he was too ashamed, didn't want anybody knowing he wasn't a man anymore. He disappeared after that. I stopped going to school and came to live here."

I put my arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"So here I am."

"Do they ever wonder where your father is?"

"Nobody cares. They don't know I live here, don't even know he's gone."

I wondered how to help her. "Maybe if you went to the police and told them your story..."

She shook her head violently. "They might even think I killed him! They won't believe me."

Unfortunately, she was right. "I want to help you," I repeated lamely.

She looked away, blushing. "You really want to help me?"

"Yeah," I said slowly, wondering what I'd missed.

"I been thinking lately...I'd like to know what love feels like. All I know is perversion and pain. I think if I don't find out I'll never be able to be happy. I feel like I'm not a woman, just a freak."

"Oh boy..." I watched her, knowing we tread on thin ice. "I -don't know..."

She turned away. "You think I'm something not worth touching, too, like the others."

'It's not that, it's just..." I trailed off. My reasons weren't going to mean anything to her. Her reality was a father who abused her, and a town that thought she wasn't worth touching. "I'm afraid it might not be the right time for you," I tried to explain. "If you rush something like this, it could make things even worse."

"Nothing could be worse than this." Again, she had a valid point. "I've thought a lot about it. I need to know someone would want to touch me." She began crying silently.

I pulled her closer.

She leaned against me and looked up with an earnest gaze. "I know you could make it good, Beau."

She needed psychiatric counseling, but I didn't think a mental hospital was called for. Alice clearly wasn't crazy, it was just the label the town put on her because she didn't fit in with the others. If I rejected her now she'd think no one wanted her. No matter how I tried to come up with something else, I couldn't. At least this way, no matter what, she'd have a special memory of someone who showed her some love. Maybe it would help get her through.

I cupped her chin. "Are you sure?"

She gulped and nodded. "I've always liked you, Beau, ever since we were in school together. You were the only one who was nice to me."

Thank God, I thought. At least when Beau got back, I wouldn't have to worry about him treating her like the others did, after...

Not quite believing what I was doing, I took off my shoes. She followed.

"You might want to do this in your head, but you may find when we get stated that your body has other ideas. It's natural after what you went through, so don't force it, okay?"

She nodded.

Thankfully, I'd visited with Janey before this...I wasn't too...keyed up. This was a very vulnerable girl, who needed special handling. If I screwed up, I was messing with someone's mental sanity.

"I'm scared too," I admitted to put her more at ease.

"You?" she breathed. "Why?"

"Because this is an awfully important job you've entrusted to me. I'm not really...qualified to help you."

"You mean I am crazy."

I winced at my mistake. In those days, going to the shrink wasn't vogue yet. You were either sane, or you went to a psychiatrist. "I didn't mean that. I meant--" I paused. "I'm not used to being with someone so inexperienced."

"Does that mean I'm kind of like a virgin, even though--" she began in a pleased tone, then fell silent in shame, bowing her head.

Her pain moved me. I took her face in my hands and brought her head up. The kiss was the barest brushing of lips, but lingering. I felt the first stirrings of a desire that was different somehow. It was prompted only by caring and tenderness, not sexual attraction or lust, almost innocent in its purity. This was an altruistic act, entirely for someone else. Don't get me wrong, I'm no sex fiend. But it's an amazing feat for a male--and don't let any man tell you different.

It almost felt like the first time for me, too. Only this would be the way a first time should be, not a hurried, fumbling anti-climactic climax.

"How was that?" I asked when the kiss ended.

"I liked it, a lot," she admitted.

I began unbuttoning my shirt. Once again, she mirrored my actions, taking off hers too. She had no bra.

I waited, wanting to let her set the pace. Her hand finally reached out, palm lying flat against my chest. She moved it across, getting used to the feeling.

Her breasts were small, compact, but somehow as endearing as the girl herself. I cupped one in the palm of my hand. There was a slight tensing at my touch. "Does this feel good?" I asked her. When she hesitated, I took my free hand and tilted her chin up to meet my eyes. "Look at me, Alice. I'm not...him, I'm Beau. I only want to make you feel good. We're not going to do anything you don't want to do--you're in charge."

Hearing that seemed to give her more boldness. She stood up, unfastening her pants and pulling them down. I had to give her credit for courage, there was no underwear to hide behind. "Is my body...okay?" she asked hesitantly when she was fully naked.

I rose to my feet, taking her tiny waist in my hands. "You have a very nice body."

"Better than Janey's?" she asked with a trace of challenge.

"Yes," I told her, seeing a way to lead her down the right path. "Janey doesn't care who she gives her body to. This is special. You're giving me this gift out of love. Not just because you're horny. Remember that."

"Oh God," a familiar voice startled me by intruding. "Mr. Hypocrite Boy Scout strikes again! You son of a--preacher."

By sheer will I held onto the mood I wanted to create for us. I hugged Alice--both to cover her nakedness and to glare at Al for all I was worth.

"Okay, okay. Just wanted to tell you you're doing the right thing. I've got some things to check out--I might be onto something. See ya later." He left, by way of the Chamber doorway, I was relieved to see.

"I like the way my breasts feel against your hairy chest," Alice told me in a low voice.

I grinned. "Me too." I kissed her again, longer this time. I traced her lips with my tongue and she sighed. Encouraged, I let my hands caress her back, but didn't venture further yet. I had to let her take the initiative.

I pulled back. "Would you like to take off my pants, or do you want me to do it?"

"I'd like to do it," she said gratefully. Her hand touched my bulge experimentally, rubbing slightly. Then she surprised me by pulling my underwear and pants down at one time. "I didn't want to chicken out," she explained, blushing further as her eyes took in my body.

We sat down together. She stared at my partially-erect cock, then glanced up at me. I smiled reassuringly. She reached out and touched it. It didn't take her long to gain confidence, stroking with a talent I wondered if inborn, or if her father made her...I nipped those kind of thoughts in the bud. Not exactly conducive to excitement. I concentrated on the feel of her hand and my cock began to harden. I played with her breasts while she fondled me.

Things were moving excruciatingly slowly, but this wasn't for me, it was for Alice. So I slowly let her set the pace, take charge. She apparently had forgotten all about her bad experiences in light of this new, pleasant one. I was glad I was able to make her feel good.

She lay down on the floor, inviting me with trusting eyes. I leaned over and reached into the pocket of my jeans. This time I was prepared. Actually, they'd been there all the time. I should have known, this was the fifties. Where would any self-respecting boy be without a rubber in his wallet? It was almost as big as fancy cars.

"Remember Alice, don't let any guy ever touch you without one of these," I told her. "I don't care how much you love him, or what his excuse is," I added guiltily. "Unless you both are planning on having babies."

We spent some more time cuddling and kissing. I prepared her carefully, then began to slide inside.

"You're beautiful, Alice," I told her, caressing her breasts.

She put her arms around my neck, rocking up to meet me. It was a perfect duet, we moved together in harmony.

When she began moaning steadily, it spurred my onward. The feeling grew until I could hold nothing back.

"I love you, Beau," she whispered.

The candle went out. A bright flash of light peaked behind my eyelids as the force erupted from me. "Al!"

A moment later, she shuddered and cried out my--Beau's name.

I cradled her afterwards.

"Thank you," she whispered and kissed me. She cuddled into my neck and closed her eyes, sighing happily.

I realized with a hit of panic, the bright flash of light I'd seen when I came wasn't behind my eyes--as I caught sight of a cigar's glow.

I forced my eyes to Al. It was weird, here I was having a serious case of embarrassment, yet earlier I was contemplating Al being there while I was with Janey with something quiet different. Did the girl make the difference, or was it just that fantasy and reality were two different things?

"I was right, Sam," Al began excitedly. "I had a talk with Beau. He really does like Alice a lot, so it's okay."

My eyes bored holes into him. Alice wasn't asleep, so I couldn't say anything out loud. He was going on with impunity, on a roll, oblivious of his bad timing. Usually Al was more discreet about that. At least, in front of my face he was...

His expression brightened even more as he glanced at the link. "Guess what? You did it! This was the ticket Beau and Alice needed. He takes her home, and because of his protection, the others have to leave her alone. They never do come around completely though, and Beau and Alice leave town. They move to San Antonio, get married and have a couple of babies. She finishes school, writes a book of poetry. Oh--" he chuckled. "Preacher stays here, where he's happy. He gets married to Janey's mother."

Idly, I wondered if Al were going to go on forever. And would I be stuck listening that long? It wasn't that I didn't want to know what happened to everyone--I usually just didn't get such an enthusiastic spiel at such an inopportune time. Besides, I wanted to get the now-annoying rubber off, and I wasn't doing it in front of Al--I drew the line somewhere.

I hoped everybody had learned something from this leap. I'd found that there could be beauty and a celebration of life everywhere--even in a small, dusty town like Shamrock.

Al was still going strong. "Janey Lou gets religion, becomes a-- nun!"

I stared at him in surprise, finally forgetting to be embarrassed.

"What did you do to that poor girl, Sam?!"

I opened my mouth, coughed to cover my reaction, and leaped.

 

 

the end

6/19/92


End file.
